To Face Goodbye
by morgana07
Summary: As Dean's deal nears, the brothers are faced with saying that final goodbye. Sam's inability to stop it pushes him close to the edge and Dean struggles to help his brother while close to one himself. Angsty/ worried/big brother!Dean & Angsty/Upset/Drunk!Sam.
1. Chapter 1

**To Face Goodbye**

**Summary: **_As Dean's deal nears, the brothers are faced with saying that final goodbye. Sam's inability to stop it pushes him close to the edge and Dean struggles to help his brother while close to one himself. Angsty/ worried/big brother!Dean & Angsty/Upset/Drunk!Sam. _

**Tags: **_Not tagged to anything. Set in Season 3 between 03x15:Time Is On My Side and 03x16:No Rest For the Wicked._

**Spoilers: **_There are spoilers if you're new to the show and haven't seen Season 3. Other than that, I don't think so._

**Warnings: **_Language of course since this is an upsetting time for the boys. Nothing else. _

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own Supernatural or anything to do with it. This is for fun._

**Chapter One**

The crack of a ball on a pool table in the middle of a crowded busy bar filled with people, the smell of stale beer and smoke was what Dean Winchester was used to. It was what he did to relax when he wasn't using it to run a pool table to make easy money.

Downing the shot glass of Jack Daniels with a hiss he tried to focus on the last ball on table but was finding it hard to concentrate that night. Dean just wished his lack of concentration was because of the alcohol and not because of what else he'd been thinking about.

He hadn't planned on drinking while on the road since the last thing he wanted was to get drunk, get into a wreck and…kill someone since he knew it wouldn't matter much if he died by this point since he had…a quick look at his watch told him the exact amount of hours, minutes, and seconds he had left before his deal came due.

Dean had figured on just trying to find some peace and quiet to force his thoughts and his own feelings down while allowing Sam to wind down from the both the encounter with Doc Benton and from being forced to face the fact that there was nothing he could do to save Dean from going to Hell.

Sam's last hope had been whatever the crazy old coot of a doctor from 1816 was using to keep himself alive but in order to put a stop to Benton's snatching of body parts they'd buried him alive…or somewhat alive in a fridge. An act that would eventually end Benton once all his used parts expired but it also stopped Sam from getting whatever information he'd need to save his brother…something that Dean knew the kid wasn't taking well.

Blowing out a breath, Dean rested his chin on the pool cue and struggled to ignore the pain in Sam's too huge puppy dog eyes the moment he realized that chance was gone and what would soon be happening.

"Mom…watch over him, please," he whispered, allowing his hands to shake for the first time since he wasn't having to put up the strong and brave act for Sam right then.

Nearly a year ago now Dean had made a choice. He'd chosen to give his life and his soul in return for his younger brother's life because he hadn't spent all those damn years watching over Sam to allow him to die like that. Now, it was almost time to face the music and Dean was forced to admit he was scared out of his mind.

He'd put up the caviler attitude, he'd pretended that it didn't matter, that he didn't care. He'd acted rashly, taken risks that normally he wouldn't have and truly hadn't cared…until the night Sam finally called him out on it.

Running and hiding out from an obsessed Gordon Walker turned into a vampire, Sam finally got into Dean's face and called him on the act. It hadn't been the near fight between them that made Dean back down from going to face Gordon alone but the loss in Sam's eyes when he said he just wanted him to be his brother again.

"Geek boy always knows what buttons to push," he muttered then shot the last ball into the corner pocket, accepted the grumbled congratulations of the guys he was playing against and shoved the wad of cash into his jeans with a mental reminder to slip it into the envelope in his duffel that he'd been putting money away in for Sam so his brother wouldn't be broke when he…

Nodding for another drink, Dean swallowed it without a hiss this time since he'd rather face the burn and pain of drinking then the burn and pain that was causing his chest to tighten.

He'd tried to accept dying and had done a pretty good job at it until the past few nights when the nightmares had started, when he'd hung up on Bela right as her own deal came due and they at least gained the name of the demon holding Dean's deal…not that it would help now.

Now it was a matter of facing hard facts and facing them with a stoic face so that only one of them would break. In some way, Dean accepted that he'd jumped without really thinking that night after Cold Oak when he'd made that crossroads deal but he never regretted it. He'd saved Sam which is what he'd been trying to do. Now he just had to face…saying goodbye without breaking in front of the kid brother that he'd always been so strong for and a part of Dean wasn't sure he could do that.

"Damn," he started to motion for another when he glanced at his watch again to see that he'd stayed out for a lot longer than he'd planned. "Sam."

Pulling his cell phone out to speed dial his brother to let him know he was coming back and to see if he needed anything, Dean was paying his tab while ignoring the obviously flirting waitress when he scowled at the phone the moment it went to voicemail because he knew if Sam was hard to deal with when he was upset then he was even worse when he was pissed off and ignoring him.

"Pain in the ass little brothers," he mumbled, taking time to stuff his winnings in the manila envelope in his duffel before driving back to the motel more slowly since even Dean admitted that he'd drank more than he should've when he accepted in his mind that he couldn't handle Sam and what was coming if he was drunk or hungover.

Having tried several more times to call his brother from the bar to the motel Dean was deciding between if Sam had finally just fallen to sleep or if he was plain avoiding him. Choosing the latter since Sam knew not to ignore a phone call, especially repeated phone calls, Dean tried to be more quiet when he put the key in the lock only to frown when he found the room unlocked.

"Sam?" more cautious now because neither Winchester would ever leave the door to their motel unlocked, Dean pulled his .45 as he eased the door opened, flipped the light switch on and froze at what he found. "_Sonuvabitch_."

The motel looked like a whirlwind…or a huge fight had hit it. Both beds had their covers and sheets tore off to be thrown in a corner, one pillow had been torn to pieces to allow feathers to spread over anything they touched. The nearby tiny able had been overturned and Dean's now hardening gaze noticed the laptop that his little brother prized had fallen along with the rest of the table's contents.

"Sam?" he called more loudly this time while looking around for signs of sulphur or anything that would say a demon had ambushed his brother when he knelt down to touch what he knew was blood on a discarded shirt that he remembered Sam wearing earlier. "Sammy!"

Pure big brother instincts were now taking control as the alcohol buzz in Dean's brain wore off to be replaced by the hunter who would kill anything that threatened his brother. A low sound from the bathroom caught his attention but as he was pushing to his feet, Dean's eyes caught the scattered contents of Sam's duffel.

Not sure if his brother had been attacked by a demon or something else, Dean was cautious as he rounded the bed that would've been Sam's to see that everything in his brother's duffel had been tossed as if Sam had been looking for something.

Clothes were tossed, Sam's weapon was just laying on the floor as if placed there and ignored so that told Dean that his brother couldn't have been attacked unless he'd been taken by surprise and hadn't had the chance to go for the gun but then he began to see the little things that were more telling signs of what must have happened while he'd been gone.

Every book they had, every scrap of research Sam had been doing for the past year, even some books that Dean knew his brother must have sneaked out of Bobby's library had been thrown over the floor as if in a fit of restless rage by an upset young hunter being forced to finally accept the truth…that he was going to have to face saying goodbye and Sam still wasn't ready to do that.

"Damn it, Sam," Dean whispered, still not putting the .45 away until he was certain the room was clear; he then saw the two empty bottles and swore under his breath. "Sam!"

The trunk of the Impala had three full bottles of Jack Daniels that Dean carried for 'extreme circumstances'. He hadn't bothered to check tonight if the liquor had still been there or not since he had no reason to. He was going to the bar and Sam rarely drank because if there was one thing his little brother could not handle was drinking.

Two bottles of empty whiskey gave Dean the final clue to why his brother probably wasn't answering the phone even as he was reaching for the bathroom door to push it open. "Hey, you drink my whiskey or…shit! Sam, what the hell have you done?"

Expecting to find his little brother passed out on the bathroom floor or something to that nature since normally when Sam did drink more than a few beers he'd become a bit more moody then just go to sleep to wake up with a royal hangover. That was how Dean expected to see him now. The actual sight was enough to finish clearing Dean's head as he was immediately hit by the heat of the shower, the smell of raw whiskey on top of whatever had been on Sam's stomach and…blood. A lot of blood and one look told the older Winchester where it was coming from.

"Sammy!"

**TBC**

**Author Note: **_I hadn't planned on a multi-chapter for this one. It was supposed to have been a straight 1-shot but as is usual for me, the plot bunnies took over & changed the story a little. I've always wondered about those last few days between the time they finished Doc Benton to the beginning of the Finale. This is my take. So read and enjoy._


	2. Chapter 2

**To Face Goodbye**

**Chapter Two**

**Earlier that Evening**:

"No! There has to be someone else, anything else! Bobby, Dean's time is running out and I have to find something that'll save him."

Flipping through a worn out book on ancient spells that he'd already been through nearly thirty times in the past twelve months, Sam Winchester jerked a restless hand back through his already tousled hair before giving in to throw the book against a wall.

"No, I won't give up!" he snapped into his phone, ignoring or not hearing the warning growl on the other end by a man who was willing to take just so much from his favorite two idjits. "Doc Benton lived for so long…he had to have some kind of formula, anything that might keep Dean alive until I find a way to break that deal or…" he still could see the ancient old man who kept himself alive by stealing body parts of other people and knew his brother would not have accepted that as a path to survival but by this point Sam was desperate enough to have tried it.

Listening to Bobby Singer try to be rational over what was clearly Dean's last days on Earth just managed to push Sam's stress to another level and he finally cracked. "I won't give up on him, Bobby! I won't…I can't just let him die because of me!"

Throwing the phone toward the bed, Sam wasn't even aware of when it hit the floor instead as he struggled to find anything, a spell, an idea, a clue in any of the books he'd been dragging with them but the longer it went that he only found the same answers the more tired, the more angry he became until finally he threw the first book and the next, and so on.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it!" memories surging of waking up in that shack in Cold Oak, of knowing something was wrong but not being able to place it, of seeing the look of utter relief in his big brother's eyes that moment Dean walked in the door and feeling the strength of his arms when Dean did the rare thing and reached out to Sam.

Trying to do a computer search on his laptop also wasn't giving Sam the results he so desperately was needing as he searched every type of site he could think of…including a few that he knew Dean would roll his eyes at. Checking his e-mail to see if he'd gotten a response from any of the hunters or specialists he'd been contacting, Sam closed his eyes when seeing nothing there that would solve his problems.

His older brother, the one single person Sam had always counted on to be there for him, with him, only had 72 hours or so to live before his deal came due and everything Sam tried to save him just fell apart. "Son of a bitch!" standing suddenly, he flipped the table over and didn't care when his useless laptop went with it as he jerked open his duffel bag to begin to throw things out of it in search of what he'd shoved in earlier that night.

Memories of being small began to hit him as he opened the first bottle of whiskey that he knew Dean would kill him when he learned he'd taken it from the Impala but the pain right then, the pain that he knew would come later was too much and Sam wanted it gone. He just wanted to forget for the moment that in a matter of three days, on his birthday, he'd be losing his big brother.

Not a steady drinker like Dean could or their Dad could, Sam hated the stuff. He hated the smell, hated the effects it had on both his brother and Father but right then he just wanted to drink the pain and loss away even as his own mind betrayed him by remembering the years before…the good times, though he'd never thought them good at the time.

"Dean," he whispered, tightening his grip on the bottle while recalling his childhood. He could easily remember Dean being there more than their Dad had been. His brother taught him everything he needed to know, he'd taught him to walk and talk according to Bobby and Pastor Jim.

It had been his brother who had struggled to protect Sam from everything, he'd fought to make things as normal as possible and when Sam had learned the truth of John Winchester's life, Dean had fought to keep Sam as safe from the monsters they hunted as possible.

Dean had been the one who taught Sam to shoot, to hunt, to try to survive in that life even as their Dad yelled, lectured, and drilled. It was his brother who shielded him, who had given up things so that Sam would have a chance to get out…to have that normal life even if it meant leaving Dean behind.

Two bottles gone, Sam had started on the third when his anger slowly began to overtake the pain. Struggling to his feet, he fell back down when his legs decided to feel like jelly and he was unaware of when he tore the pillow in two as he could hear every lecture John gave them on hunting, on killing the things that needed killing and finally…

"…_things that are dead should stay dead_…" words that Sam has heard three times and that keep repeating themselves in his head now. The first had been by his Dad when John had been explaining why they needed to dispel a ghost, the second was from Dean after he figured out that he'd been expected to die after the semi truck crashed into them and John had made a deal to save him and finally, he'd heard it in that graveyard when the Yellow-Eyed demon had said it to Dean about Sam who learned why Jake was so shocked to see him.

"No, he's not dying because of me," he mumbled, refusing to let that happen no matter what he had to do. Sam struggled to his feet when his eyes fell on the empty bed closest to the door, his brother's bed, and felt a hammer hit his chest as he began to realize soon that bed would always be empty because he was failing to do what he promised Dean he'd do.

For as long as Sam could remember Dean had always had the bed closest to the door and he'd never questioned it. It was just one of those things that he'd grown up accepting…one of those things that Dean just did naturally and Sam had let him because his big brother had always known best.

"He was supposed to know what was best," he spoke to the empty room as his eyes blurred from both unknown tears and the heavy amount of liquor he'd taken in on a near empty stomach. "This isn't what was supposed to happen. Dean isn't supposed to die…he's not supposed to leave…_sonuvabitch_!"

Unaware of how much like his brother he sounded on that last curse, Sam lost himself in blind pain-filled rage as he took out the building emotion on the two double beds in the room before he felt his stomach roll with nausea and barely made it to the bathroom before his stomach emptied.

Recalling another time he'd drank too much didn't make Sam any less upset because he could recall the enjoyment Dean had gotten from his so-called hangover cure that had made Sam sicker than the booze did.

That was also the time Sam recalled telling Dean to stop him if he did start to go dark like their Dad warned him of and his brother promised him that he would.

"He promised me that he'd do it," leaning his head on his arm, Sam slammed his other hand down on the bathroom floor and heard glass break just as pain shot up his arm as the third bottle broke and broken glass ripped his flesh. "Damn it! I…blood…" staring at the blood pouring freely from his hand and wrist he thought of something he'd seen in one of Bobby's books. "I can still…try one more thing…"

Desperate for a way to keep his brother from dying, from facing Hell and what could possibly be waiting for him, Sam ignored the pain he was in, the sick way his stomach and head seemed to be rebelling on him as he tried to find the small and tattered looking old book he'd 'borrowed' from Bobby's library.

By the time Sam found the page he was looking for, he'd stopped noticing the blood coming from his hand that was now covering the bathroom where he'd decided to stay for more than one reason. Turning the shower on hot and full blast to create steam that he hoped would help him stay awake he began to work.

Blinking his eyes to bring the words back into focus, the young hunter read the spell again to be sure he understood before using his good hand to use his own running blood to draw the scraggly lines onto the floor when he thought he heard noises from the bedroom.

"This'll work," he whispered to himself, struggling to stay conscious as loss of blood, too much whiskey and feeling sick was making him drowsy.

Thinking he heard Dean calling him made Sam smile sadly as he thought of how much he'd miss the sound of that if he failed in this last ditch effort to stop his brother's deal from coming due. "I promised I'd find a way to stop him from dying…and I will…no matter what," he murmured, reading the book again as he whispered the words but faltered on the last when he couldn't read it due to a smudge on the paper. "No, this has to work. This has to…"

"Hey, you drink my whiskey or…shit! Sam, what the hell have you done?"

Jerking at the suddenly very loud to his ears voice of his very real and very pissed off older brother, Sam's head snapped up to look through the now lessening steam to see Dean standing in the door looking both horrified and shocked at the condition Sam was in.

Pale from throwing up more than once, being drunk, and losing blood still, Sam hadn't counted on his brother coming back so soon so as he jerked, his bleeding hand smeared the page of the book which rendered it unreadable and therefore unusable to Sam.

Angry at losing his last chance, dizzy as he moved to quick to stand and avoid his brother as he moved into the bathroom, Sam slid on the bloody floor and before he could make a clumsy grab for the sink he felt himself falling into darkness with only his brother's voice in his ears and nightmares of failing echoing his dreams.

"Sammy!"

**TBC**

**Author Note: **_Third chapter coming very soon as Dean struggles to face what haunts his brother and must also face his own fear of saying that final goodbye when it comes._


	3. Chapter 3

**To Face Goodbye**

**A/N & Warning**: _Just to be safe, there is mention of some minor abuse Sam suffered at the hands of others when he was younger. Nothing is shown, nothing really mentioned but it is there so I wanted to toss in an FYI. Thanks._

**Chapter Three**

Blaring loud drums seemed to pounding through Sam Winchester's groggy, tired, and sore head as he tried to move to cover his ears only to discover the drums appeared to be his own rapidly beating heart and he fought to claw his way to the surface of the nightmare he was trapped in…a nightmare in which he's forced to watch his brother die.

"No…De'n…don't…go…" trying to reach out, to stop what he could see, Sam jerked at the firm hands that gripped his shoulders to stop him from lunging up.

"Sammy, hey, settle down," the voice speaking sounded dim to Sam but he wasn't sure if that was because he could still hear his heart or if its speaker really did sound that tired when something registered and his tried to open eyes as one of the hands moved to grip his wrist. "Little brother, I swear if you rip these stitches out one more time I will so end you."

That threat, the tone brought Sam back and his eyes opened to find himself staring into the concerned green gaze of his older brother as Dean sat beside him on the hastily put back together bed in the bedroom of their motel room.

"…De'n?" Sam knew his head felt like busting and his mouth tasted like crap as Dean reached beside him to grab a bottle of water and held it up.

"Drink, rinse, and spit cause between the booze you've consumed, the way you've been throwing up since I got back here and from what I could see in the bathroom your mouth probably tastes like something in a dump," Dean was really proud that he'd stopped his hands from shaking as badly as they had been from the moment his brother had passed out four hours earlier until a little bit ago.

Confused, Sam winced as he eased up to an elbow to drink the cold water then spit it into the trashcan Dean held ready before slumping back to the pillows and looking around the room. "Dean?"

"Yeah, we are so not getting the security deposit back on this room," his brother sighed while shifting to begin repacking the medical kit. "You did a number on it…and yourself."

Thinking back to what he did recall, Sam noticed his hand and wrist and saw flashes of blood as glass shattered and he began to remember the night after Dean had left for the bar.

Looking more closely he noticed the stains of blood still on Dean's shirt but more importantly he caught the slight tremble to hands that Sam had rarely ever seen shake. "I'll…clean it up after…Dean?"

"You move and I'll put you in a damn hospital for this next fight," the tone was clipped which told Sam his brother was pissed but there was also something else there, concern or confusion. "What the hell were you doing, Sam?" Dean demanded, glancing back but still could see the smeared blood traced on the floor in the bathroom that he hadn't cleaned up yet.

"Trying to save you," Sam replied softly, dropping his eyes to his bandaged hand to avoid seeing the anger or disapproval glaring back at him but felt the hand on his good wrist squeeze carefully. Looking back up he was startled not to see that but understanding and a tiredness that he hadn't seen in Dean before. "I promised that I'd find a way to…"

Dean grunted softly to himself, nodding. '_So that's what this is about'_ he thought to himself, recalling their conversation in the car after helping Bobby when he'd been in a coma.

He had told Sam that he didn't want to die…that he didn't want to go to Hell and his little brother had promised to find a way to help him. If Sam was anything like their Dad then it was in his stubborn nature to do what he set his mind on and what Sam wanted more than anything was to save Dean from Hell, from a deal he made to save Sam.

"Sammy, I know what you want…I know that you will try until the very goddamn end but…little brother, you need to start facing that in less than three days my deal comes due and…" struggling to bury the pain and emotion that wanted to come out, Dean stood up to go over and pick up the fallen laptop and reset the table while trying not to look back into too huge puppy dog eyes that he knew would be wet with unshed tears.

"We find Lillith and we can make her cancel it," Sam had hoped they wouldn't have to resort to that option but since this last trick of his had backfired he guessed they didn't have any further choice. "You taught me to never give up. You taught me that there was always a way out if you looked hard enough and…"

Wondering when the hell his baby brother had decided to start remembering the things he'd been taught, Dean felt like slamming his head into a wall in bitter frustration but hearing the next soft comment stopped him.

"You…promised that you'd never leave me."

There it was. The oh-so quiet hurt, lost little brother tone that Dean only heard from Sam when things were at the breaking point…or the time when Sam had been thirteen and his big brother had originally made that promise.

Taking a deep breath, Dean let it out slowly and by the time he had some of his emotions had settled back into the normal 'protect Sam, never let him see you falter' mode. Looking back toward Sam who had decided the bandage on his hand and wrist was very interesting; Dean recalled the night he made that promise.

He'd been seventeen and striving for a bit more independence than his Father had been comfortable with until finally weeks of badgering, of fighting and outright sulking had made John give in and he allowed his older son to go on a hunt with only Caleb as backup.

The hunt had been simple, a vengeful spirit of an old Civil War soldier who hadn't quite gotten the idea that the war was over. It took less than a week but it was a time that had taken the young hunters into areas of the south that also hadn't gotten cell phone service so the second they hit a zone that did both Dean and Caleb's cell phones were exploding with voicemails from several anxious people.

Figuring that probably Bobby, Pastor Jim and Jefferson were just a little wary about what he and Caleb could get into on their own, Dean wasn't too concerned about checking them until he caught the way his friend's face was changing as he listened to his and said three words that Dean still recalled. 'It's about Sam'.

Forgetting the need for a shower or food, Dean had scrolled through his many messages to find the first one and held his breath at his father's unusually anxious and concerned voice as he explained that Sam was missing and he needed to get back.

Five days separated the first call to the last and when Dean was unable to get his Dad by phone his concern tripled and he and Caleb were halfway back to Bobby's when he got the call from Jim Murphy that he hadn't wanted to get.

John had been hunting with Jim and Bobby, it was a simple hunt or so the men had thought and hadn't considered leaving Sam at the motel for the short amount of time. Nor had their Dad thought anything about asking his thirteen year old son to walk the few blocks to the town's small library to check into something and that had been his mistake because this town had a secret that didn't include the little girl ghost that had brought them to Virginia.

A couple had lost a child years earlier to a freak accident and since then they'd been surviving that loss by kidnapping children from surrounding areas but the couple hadn't been right mentally before that as Dean would learn and his brother suffered greatly in the three days he'd been held until finally John had gotten a local to talk to them and they'd rescued the younger boy.

Hurt, frightened, starved, Sam had been in shock and hurt so bad that he had to stay in the hospital and that was where Dean found him. It was one of the few times that Dean could recall seeing his Father, the picture of no emotion usually, pacing restlessly in the hall and looking both sick at heart and furious at the same time.

Bobby had told him later that John hadn't killed the couple despite wanting to because he'd been in too big of a hurry to get Sam out of their hands and away from the tiny little box they'd locked him in when not hurting him. That had been fine with Dean since he figured he could handle that leftover detail once he'd checked on his brother…then he'd stepped into the hospital room and could still recall what he'd saw.

Sam, at thirteen, hadn't hit his growth spurt yet and when he was sick or hurt could still remind Dean of the small boy who would always follow after him. That day, his little brother looked whiter than the hospital bed sheets as he laid curled up and clutching an old flannel shirt that Dean knew by one look was one of his.

He'd only sat on the edge of the bed and spoke his brother's name when those same huge, glassy puppy dog eyes locked on his and then he was holding his frightened, still hurt little brother in his arms as he finally let out the locked up emotions and fears he'd been trying to hide from their Dad and the others.

Sam had survived that ordeal by telling himself that Dean would come, that he'd be back and had locked down all the badness, the pain, the fears until he heard his brother's strong voice then just clung to him the rest of the night while Dean talked, soothed, and listened until finally he made one promise that Sam had never forgotten…

"'_Hey, it's over. Those assholes will never hurt you again and I will never leave you alone like this again._'"

"Yeah, I know I did, Sammy," he murmured, going back to sit on the edge of Sam's bed but made no move to touch his still upset brother yet. "I've made you a lot of promises since you were a baby and I've probably managed to only keep 40% of 'em."

Staring at his hands, it took Dean a long while before he could bring himself to look fully at Sam then he carefully lifted his brother's head so their eyes would meet. "I promised that I'd always look after you, I promised that I'd keep you as out of this life as I could when you found out, I promised you as normal a life as I could swing when you were growing up…and I promised that nothing bad would ever happen to you when I was around…I didn't do so good at those, Sammy. I tried, but I…just couldn't keep 'em as much as I wanted to."

Giving a tired smile that was part Dean's usual smirk when trying to ease his brother's tension, he knew the second Sam was paying attention fully. "I know what I taught you, I know what I've promised you and if I could keep that promise I would but…Sammy…this time…this time there is no way out for me and no amount of deals, spells, or crap will change that but this…what happened here tonight is not going to help me because the last thing I need or want before it's over is to worry about you doing this because I…won't be here to pull you back," he hated to say that, knew it would hurt both of them but also knew he needed Sam to understand.

"You made that damn deal for me," Sam snapped, refusing to face this yet. He wasn't ready to hear what Dean was saying so he struggled to push to his feet only to fall into the wall by the bed when his legs wobbled. "No, don't touch me!"

He shoved away Dean's hand that had gone to grab for his, not wanting the support, not wanting anything but to crawl back into that same damn tiny box he remembered from his youth and pray this was a nightmare that his brother wasn't dying, wasn't leaving him.

"You should've let me die," the words were gritted, the pain obvious as Sam looked back, the tears clear now as he met Dean's gaze. "What the hell was the sense of saving me if it meant you'd die?" he demanded, knowing he was still more than a little drunk and in shock and that he should go back to sleep but couldn't. The sense of loss and failure was too deep right then. "You're my big brother, Dean. You're supposed to know what's best for me. Is this it? Is making a damn deal to save me what was best for me when we both know what Dad told you I could turn into?"

Dean listened to the breaking voice, the tears that choked his little brother's words and knew that everything or mostly everything he said was true but waited for Sam to wind down some before speaking. He waited until the first fist went into the wall and felt his chest tighten because every reaction in Sam now was reminding him so much of his own the night Sam had been killed by Jake.

"Sam," Dean knew his brother was hurting but he just realized he might have underestimated just how scared Sam was about the facing things alone, without his big brother. "Sammy, stop," seeing the bandaged fist draw back for a fourth time, Dean reached out to grab his brother's bicep then held on tightly as he turned Sam to face him while falling back to his tried and true method of controlling his upset little brother when he'd been trying to lash out at the world.

When Sam had been young and upset, when he'd been angry with John or even Dean and trying to lash out, Dean had figured out quickly the one way to stop it. Times might have changed, they might've changed but some things didn't change as he firmly pulled the no longer struggling younger Winchester forward and felt him latch on in a tight hug much like he had when Sam had been thirteen.

Dean just wished he had the right answers this time but knew nothing he said would or could stop the pain his little brother had right then. "Big brother doesn't always know what's best, Sammy," he spoke quietly, tightening his grip only when he felt his brother shake and heard the buried sobs that Sam still tried to hide. "If I did, I probably would've known to leave you alone in school but I was selfish and wanted my pain in the ass little brother back. If I had known best I would've went into that goddamn diner for my own stuff that night instead of sending you…but I didn't.

"As for why I made the deal to save you knowing I'd die? I wasn't counting on the demon cutting the usual ten years down to one which makes me wonder who I pissed off downstairs that they want me so bad…Sam, listen to me," Dean closed his eyes as he struggled to say the right things while not breaking the hold like he normally would have since he was breaking his own no chick flick rule but knowing his brother needed to have some form of contact if either of them were to get through this.

"I made the deal because I couldn't have went on with you dead. Yeah, another selfish moment but I didn't want my baby brother dead because I couldn't protect him," he went on, laughing bitterly. "Maybe I had some notion that we could find a way out but we can't and that brings me to now and you…"

Gently pushing Sam back to arms length, Dean fully met wet hazel eyes and gave a smile. "Is my dying what's best for you? No, but I can't change that no matter how much I wish I could. Do I regret losing so many months of playing it cool and tough when I should've been paying more attention to you and helping you face this? Yeah, but I can't change that either.

"I can't change a damn thing, Sam. All I can do is watch after my pain in the ass little brother for the last few days I have left and know that I taught you everything you know," not bothering to hide the tears like he would have any other time, Dean gave a little shake to make Sam look back up at him and again gave the tiny little smile that had always meant it would be okay. "I know you'll be scared but I also know you'll be okay. You'll wipe those pesky Wendigos off the map and you'll make your big brother proud but doing what you did tonight will never stop it from happening or change it, okay?"

"I…I don't want you to…" Sam had grown up learning to bury the emotions, to not show them but Dean had been the one who had never made him do that. Now as he watched his brother's face and saw the feelings that he finally did allow to appear Sam finally felt the break and let the wall blocking his fall since he knew Dean would just call do-over in the morning anyway. "I'm sorry that I…"

Supposing he should've seen this coming, Dean caught his brother by the shoulders to more physically direct him back to the bed but kept a hold so when he fell onto the mattress he didn't do himself more damage. "You didn't fail me, Sammy," he assured the over emotional boy. "It was my choice. I knew the risks, I knew the outcome and…I'll…be alright."

"You really believe that?" Sam asked, rubbing his eyes tiredly then shooting his brother a full on bitch face when he carded his fingers through Sam's hair only to pull it into his eyes rather than out of them. "Or are you just saying that for my sake?"

Sitting down next to his brother, Dean let his hand rest gently on the back of Sam's neck before squeezing it like he would when offering comfort or support without having to speak it. "That's what awesome big brothers are for, Sammy," he replied, not giving another answer since he knew Sam was already upset without needing to see or know how scared Dean really was of going to Hell. "Go to sleep and then I'll see about that hangover cure."

"God," Sam groaned, keeping his bad hand close to him while using his good one to pull the pillow from Dean's bed tighter to his face in efforts to smother even the thought that so-called cure. "De'n?" he called sleepily when he felt the bed shift. "Don't go…"

"I'm not going anywhere, Sam," Dean promised, picking the other comforter up from the floor to lay over his now shivering brother then gently laid his battered leather jacket over him too. "I'll just be cleaning up your little mess," he threw in lightly but saw the way Sam had latched onto his jacket that his brother was out for the night…or so he hoped because by this point Dean needed the time to clear his own head.

Stepping into the bathroom, he pulled the door closed to cover the sounds of the water running as he decided the best way to get the blood up from the floor.

Kneeling down with a rag soaked with hot water, Dean sighed as his brother's blood merely smeared more then he saw the tiny little book. "_Sonuvabitch_," he whispered, staring at the page that Sam had been studying.

He knew this book. He'd known it was in Bobby's library. He knew because he'd been through it nearly a dozen times and had seen this very same spell every time. He also knew if that last word in the spell hadn't been marred how close his brother would have been to not only succeeding in saving Dean but in sending himself straight to Hell in his place.

Dean knew all this because he'd been the one to mar the final word the moment an old Professor friend of his Dad's had explained just what this blood spell could and would do. This spell would've broken Dean free of the deal but it also would've resulted in sending who ever cast it straight there in his place and no matter how much Dean feared his fate he was not willing to risk his brother.

"I'm sorry, Sammy," he tossed the book into the sink, grabbed a bottle of alcohol to douse it with, lit it with his lighter then slid down the wall to watch it burn. "I can't let you ever use this spell."

Hours later once the blood was cleaned up, he'd taken a long shower, and the room was set back to rights as best as he could, Dean checked to be sure Sam was still sleeping before stepping outside the motel to stare up at the sky as the sun began to rise on his dwindling days.

Opening the trunk of the Impala to toss John's journal and Sam's repacked duffel back in, he paused to take a slip of paper out of his pocket to give it one final look over then slipped it into his brother's bag. Then he reached into his wallet for a worn out photo of him and Sam with John to also lay it inside with the note.

Gazing at a small bottle of whiskey that he kept for emergencies he considered it before blowing out a breath, shutting the trunk to run a shaking hand over the car. "Be good for him, baby," he spoke quietly, letting his head rest on the roof and felt a single tear fall as he thought of the next twenty-four hours.

In his life, Dean had faced a lot of goodbyes. He just wished there was a way to face this one without hurting his brother and knowing he'd never be able to say those words to the kid the moment it was time to. "Goodbye…Sammy," he whispered, seeing the sun begin to shine fully and knowing they needed to hit the road for Bobby's.

Wiping his face dry, taking a couple breaths to steady himself, Dean walked back into the motel room while turning his cell phone to play a song he knew his brother hated. "Rise and shine, Sammy! Time to go…"

**The End**

**Author Note: **_Well…not too much of it was tear jerking…maybe. I hope everyone who had read this one enjoyed it. I think I have two others planned for around this time so we'll see. This was one of the more emotional times for me since I still can't watch the last episode from Season 3 without crying. Read and enjoy._


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